Masaya

Masaya tripped over the hem of their own royal gown, sending a tray of dumplings skittering across the polished floors of The Dojo. In a flailing attempt to regain their balance, their hand instinctively brushed the hilt of the Frost Katana on their back. A wave of panicked energy surged through them, not into a graceful strike, but into a flash of frigid mist that instantly coated the entire training hall in a treacherous sheet of ice. Sparring trainees went down in a chaotic ballet of windmilling arms. From a corner, the legendary Katana, who was merely passing through, stopped and stared, mistaking the accidental, large-scale freeze for an unprecedented display of area control. Masaya, now sitting amidst the frozen chaos, simply straightened their Chimpers Merch hat and offered a deadpan stare, too mortified to admit the truth.